Halfway to Forever (37 page)

I am here, daughter … I know the plans I have for you
.

The answer was as real as if God had announced it over the hospital PA system. Jade’s body relaxed some, though her sobs continued. She was still crying when Tanner returned.

“He’s going home with Matt and Hannah.”

Jade nodded and grabbed four quick breaths. In every way that mattered, she was exhausted, but she had to get through this. In the past few hours, she’d had to say good-bye to everyone that mattered to her.

Everyone but Tanner.

And now, before she fell asleep, she would have to do that, too.

Without saying a word, Tanner flipped off the overhead light. The glow from the monitors lit his way as he walked toward her bed. Careful not to bump the machines or disturb the tubing that bound her to them, he climbed onto the mattress and lay beside her on the starchy sheets. The smell of sterilized hospital bedding mingled with his subtle cologne and filled her senses.

I’ll remember this smell as long as I live …

He held his face against hers, letting their tears mix and fall to the pillow together … inseparable. Just as she and Tanner were inseparable.

He ran his fingers along her arm and the sides of her face, and Jade savored the feel of his body against hers. For a long while, neither of them spoke. Then, Tanner leaned up on one elbow and studied her face.

His voice was a caress. “When I was in college, I hated English Literature.”

The corners of Jade’s mouth raised a bit. Even now, at the saddest moment in their lives, Tanner could make her smile. “I didn’t know that.”

“I did.” He ran his thumb along her cheekbone. “I couldn’t understand why reading William Shakespeare would ever help me in life.”

Jade had no idea where he was going with this, but the diversion felt wonderful. Though her voice was scratchy and weak, for the first time that day it held a trace of humor. “I can see that.”

“But yesterday I remembered a quote from Shakespeare.”

Jade lifted her eyebrows. “ ‘Wherefore art thou Romeo?’ ”

“No.” Tanner smiled, though the sadness in his eyes remained. His voice grew more tender, if that were possible. “ ‘Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak whispers the o’er-fraught heart and bids it break.’ ”

The quote played over again in Jade’s mind. This was so like Tanner. Whether he was in front of a jury or sitting beside her on their back deck, his thoughts were always profound. Still, there was no way she could give her sorrow words. Not now, with a thousand yesterdays blocking her ability to speak.

Fresh tears spilled onto Tanner’s cheeks and rolled off the end of his chin. “And so I have to speak, Jade. Otherwise … otherwise my heart will break.”

She nodded and tried to lift her head from the pillow. When her body wouldn’t cooperate, Tanner lowered his face to hers and kissed her—not the passionate kiss of two lovers, but a kiss of longing and sorrow and grief. It was Tanner’s attempt to express the depth of what he was feeling.

When he pulled back, he shifted to his elbow again. “I love you, Jade. In all my life I’ve only loved you.”

She forced back the lump in her throat. “I love you, too, Tanner.”

“I keep asking myself, what if you don’t know me when you wake up? What if you don’t remember Virginia or Kelso or Ty or Maddie? And if something happens, how long before I’ll see you and Jenna in heaven … what if …”

Then, despite his obvious desire to say something eloquent and memorable in these, her last hours before surgery, he hung his head and wept. Taking great care, he positioned his face over hers and wrapped his arms beneath her, much as Ty had done earlier. “Don’t go, Jade …” His voice was racked with torment. “Don’t leave me. Please … Come back to me, baby.”

“I will.” She kissed his neck, clinging to him. “I will, Tanner. I will …”

Jade wasn’t sure how long they stayed that way, but at some point they fell asleep, side by side. As though they might be back at home, holding each other through just one more happy night instead of clinging to their final moments before Jade’s surgery.

At five the next morning, a nurse woke them. “They’re ready for you, Mrs. Eastman.”

Jade squinted at the machines surrounding her and tried to remember what was happening. Then it all came flooding back. It was the morning of the surgery. Her surgery. And after today …

Tanner coughed and eased himself from the bed. Jade could see that he wanted to ask the nurse to leave the room, give them another few minutes alone. But it was too late. Preparations for the surgery were already in motion.

Minutes later two technicians and Dr. Layton entered the room. “Good morning, Jade.” He smiled and she appreciated his upbeat manner. He would be assisting in the surgery, after all, and
she needed him and the other doctors to be positive.

“Good morning.”

The doctor looked from Jade to Tanner and back again. “Well, Jade, this is the first day of the rest of your life.”

Jade nodded and glanced at Tanner. He was whiter than the sheets, and his expression was a contrast of trust and sheer terror. She leveled her gaze at Dr. Layton. “I’m ready.”

Tanner stood back while they lifted her from the bed to the gurney. She winced as they gave her the first in a series of shots that would knock her out for the operation. Before they took her away, Tanner came alongside her and whispered, “I love you, Jade. Come back to me, okay?”

A warm sensation made its way through Jade’s veins and her eyelids grew heavy. “I will, you’ll see.”

“I’ll be praying.”

“Thanks …” Her words were slurred, and everything faded around her.

The last thing she saw as she was wheeled from the room, as the medication took her under, was Tanner’s face. After that she closed her eyes.

Somewhere she’d read that the last image a person saw before brain surgery would be the first they’d remember when they regained consciousness. If that was true, only one image could help her brain survive the coming hours, help preserve her personality and memory and everything else she held dear.

The precious image of Tanner Eastman’s face.

She fought the medication’s pull, doing everything in her power to hold Tanner’s image there, but no matter how hard she held on, the crispness of his face began to blur and fade until finally the image disappeared entirely.

Then there was nothing but darkness … and the strangest sense that she was being carried. Not by human arms, but holy
ones. The sensation grew stronger until finally, despite the total darkness, Jade fell into the deepest, most peaceful sleep she’d ever known.

Six hours later, Tanner was sitting in the waiting room with his loved ones when Dr. Layton came up to them. Tanner was immediately on his feet, his heart soaring over this one fact:

Dr. Layton was smiling.

“Well …?” Tanner’s heart raced and he struggled to breathe. “How is she?”

“The surgery went beautifully. We’re almost positive we got all the cancer.”

A chorus of, “Thank You, God” and “Thank You, Jesus” came from Matt and Hannah and Pastor Steve.

Ty ran across the room and hugged Tanner. “I
knew
she’d make it, Dad. I knew it.”

Tanner’s knees trembled. She was alive! Thank God, she was alive. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists, his voice merely a whisper. “Thank You … thank You …” Almost at the same moment, he shifted his attention back to Dr. Layton. “Can I talk to her?”

“Not exactly.” A shadow fell across the doctor’s face. “You can sit with her, but she’s unconscious, remember? That’s what we expected. We’d like to see her come around in the next few hours.” He hesitated. “The longer she stays in a coma, the more likely she’ll have some memory loss or personality changes.”

“Personality changes?” Ty looked up at Tanner, his eyes wide with new concern. “What’s that mean, Dad?”

Tanner narrowed his eyes and tried to keep from collapsing. He was riding the wildest roller coaster of his life. After hitting the highest high in the past six months, he was right back where he’d
been all that morning. Begging God to heal his wife and bring her back to him, where she belonged.

Where she had always belonged.

“Well …” Tanner tightened his grip on Ty and spoke with as much strength as he could muster. “It means we keep praying, son. We just keep on praying.”

A
t eight o’clock that night in the hospital waiting room, Matt was talking in quiet whispers with Pastor Steve when his cell phone rang. He cringed, realizing he’d forgotten to turn it off when he arrived at the hospital. He snatched it up and headed for the door, shrugging when Hannah cast him a curious glance. He stepped outside and took the call.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Bronzan?”

The connection wasn’t very strong, and Matt plugged his other ear so he could hear the woman. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry to call you so late, but Edna Parsons gave me your number.” The woman hesitated. “This is Patsy Landers, Grace’s grandmother.”

Matt’s heart skipped a beat. “Uh … hello, Mrs. Landers.” Matt ached at the sound of Grace’s name. He still missed her more than he talked about, more than he admitted even to himself. “How is she?”

“Well …” The woman’s tone grew higher-pitched, as though she were upset. “She’s been having some trouble.”

Matt closed his eyes, overcome with sorrow. If only there were a way to hold Grace right here, right now, he would rock her and soothe away the pain. Whatever had caused it. “Is she okay?”

“She’s healthy, if that’s what you mean. But she’s … she’s not happy, and I think I finally understand why.”

Confusion rang through Matt’s mind. Why was she calling him about Grace? The child was no longer a part of their lives. It
killed him to think of her troubled or sad, but there was nothing he could do about it.

Nothing at all.

Matt inhaled, waiting until his lungs were full before speaking. “Mrs. Landers, if you’ll excuse me, I’m not sure I understand why you’re calling.”

“Because …” The woman on the other end was quiet for a moment. “Because I have an idea and … well … I’d like to share it with you.”

“Yes …” An idea? About Grace’s happiness? Her future? Matt’s heart began to pound. “I’d like to hear it.”

The days blended one into the other, and still Jade remained in a coma.

Whenever he met with Tanner, Dr. Layton’s voice was somber and he frowned often. Clearly the man was discouraged, though Tanner thought he tried to hide the fact. Either way there was no dancing around the obvious. Every hour, every day that passed, the chances of Jade making a full recovery grew more and more slim.

Tanner existed in a fog of prayer and encouragement from Matt and Hannah and the others. At least once a day Ty was allowed in the room, and that was usually when Tanner was at his best. He would encourage Ty to talk to Jade, to touch her. And in the process he would find himself believing she could really hear them.

It was strange how his fears had changed time and again since Jade’s diagnosis. Before her surgery, Tanner was most afraid that somehow she’d wake up a different person, no longer knowing him or loving him.

Now, though, at dawn of the fourth day since her operation,
Tanner only hoped she’d wake up at all.

He studied her face, serene and still, and glanced at the prayer chart above Jade’s bed. It was still happening. Somewhere in the city of Thousand Oaks someone was praying for Jade’s recovery. Tanner was grateful. There were hours when he couldn’t find the strength to form another prayer, times when the knowledge of the Jade Chain was all that pulled him through.

His eyes fell back to Jade. The medication had made her face look full again, like it had been before she’d lost so much weight. Her head was still swathed in bandages, but otherwise she looked better than she had in months.

He took her limp hand in his and massaged his thumb over her wedding ring. “Jade, baby, good morning.” Tanner cooed the words, inches from her ear. “Today’s the day you wake up, honey, okay?”

It was the same thing he said to her every morning. And every time, when she failed to respond, he would start telling her stories. Dr. Layton had told him that conversation was one of the greatest ways to rouse a person from a coma. Memories were another.

That being the case, Tanner had decided to talk about the past. Every day, every hour if necessary. As much as was humanly possible.

“Remember that trust game we used to play when we were kids?” He searched her face for signs of a response. When there was none, he continued. “You’d close your eyes, and I’d lead you around the backyard. Remember? And when the weather was good, remember how we’d ride bikes around the neighborhood?” He relaxed back into the chair, his fingers still clutching hers. “Back then my favorite times were when we’d race. Really, Jade, I used to let you win. I mean, I wouldn’t tell you back then, of course, but I loved the way your eyes sparkled when you’d win. It was worth losing just for that.”

He took a sip of water and continued, sharing stories about her leaving for Kelso and him promising anyone who would listen that one day—no matter how long it took—he would marry her. Even if he had to search the whole country to find her again.

Tanner tried to sound upbeat. “It worked. I’m here, aren’t I?”

Story after story spilled from him, even the sad ones, and in Jade and Tanner’s years apart there had been plenty of those. He talked about finding her in Kelso that summer and how attracted he’d been to her, how difficult it was to keep his distance. He celebrated again the choice she’d made that summer to become a Christian and the strength she’d roused in him by challenging his intention to be a politician.

“I would have hated that lifestyle. I can never thank you enough, Jade, for helping me follow my dreams.”

His voice grew somber. “After I came back from that trip and found you gone, married to someone else, I thought I’d die from grief. It was all I could do to—”

Tanner froze.

Had it been his imagination or had Jade moved her foot? He leaned forward and stayed utterly still, silent. Then he remembered Dr. Layton’s advice: